The Devil's Guide to RuneMidgard
by Critic From Hell
Summary: RuneMidgard is a biiiiig place for a scruffy little munchkin like you. Here's a little info to help you get started.[Updated: All 2nd classes up]


The Novice: Everyone in Rune-Midgard starts here. Even the good people. The larval stage of humanity is characterized by a gluttonous appetite for small, fuzzy beings and cuter flora, as well as an immense greed for shiny metallic things. Like all pests, they should be dealt with quickly before they multiply.

First Class:

The Swordsman: Generally the biggest and strongest of the first classers, they make up for their feeble minds with sheer bulk and…"skill"… with the sword. Their stubbornness and leather armor **does** make them harder to kill than most other classes though, so they make decent meat shields. Fortunately, they're also the most numerous of first classers, and so are easily replaceable.

The Magician: On the other end of the spectrum are the mages, the physically frail but intellectually powerful men and women who dabble in mystic arts. Despite the awesome force and devastating effects of their spell casting, the fact that the males are built like skeletons and the woman dress like whores leave them extremely vulnerable to anything this side of a feather duster. Fairly worthless if taken by surprise.

The Thief: The bastard children of philandering adventurers and the like, these are the ones who are responsible for the hands on your ass in the middle of crowded streets. When exterminating, scream racist comments and slander their heritage, just in case their pleas of innocence are true. Nothing causes trauma in young children like unwarranted violence and prejudice.

The Archer: Cowards who lack the testicular fortitude to bring themselves within ten feet of their foes, as well as the moderate intellect needed to cast spells. That being said, shooting a man in the back from behind a tree a hundred feet away **is** a rather effective manner to settle a dispute, so show no mercy when facing them.

Cut off their index and middle finger. Maybe their hands. Include feet for good measure.

The Merchant: These are the thieves who were not abandoned by their mothers and fathers. A generous parent invests greats sums of money in the illegitimate child to keep their mouths shut. Vicious throat-cutting, purse-slitting, backstabbing sons of bitches, they have keen wits, and even keener knives. Those that hit thirty and don't turn to alchemy or smithing, however, are another matter. Pilfer from them to your heart's desire.

The Acolyte: Their unsuspecting natures and virginal asses make them one of the most sought after commodities in Rune-Midgard. Love them, cherish them, than sell them off to some noble in Prontera for a hefty profit. Males sell for double.

Second Classes 

The Knight: Swordsmen who learn which end of the sword to grab and how not to catch their dicks while buckling their belts are entrusted with bigger swords and better armor. This usually goes to their heads, and they become all haughty and arrogant with their tin suits and foil swords. Feed their egos a bit, and they'll lay down their lives for you. Stupid bunch, these.

The Wizard: Mages who progress beyond the beginner levels of magic start wearing real clothes, though still of poor taste and design. The power and intensity of their spells are doubled, but the time required to recite the proper incantations become tenfold. As with their lesser ilk, they have weak constitutions. Take them down quickly.

The Assassin: In ages past, assassins were the shadows of death, near-mythical killers who were rumored to be soundless, invisible, and intangible, capable of walking through walls and the like. Now assassins are mainly wannabes and hacks, regularly slain by blind old grandmas with walkers. Recommended that one hire a small army of them if the target has a higher IQ than a poring.

The Hunter: The archer's arsenal has been greatly bolstered, much to the dismay of everyone else. Now they lay bear traps, land mines, and other such underhanded tools, as well as sending their feathered companions to gouge out one's eyes/testicles. It is a mystery as to where the females keep their gear, or why the men wear tree-bark skirts. Information for either will be rewarded with fifty-thousand Zenny.

The Blacksmith: In their quest to maximize profits even further, merchants have begun smithing their own weapons to sell. Be wary: equipment sold by smith's bear the names of their makers. Make certain that the sword you're buying has the same name as the forger selling it to you. It not, it is probably stolen, and can be haggled down to a third of the current price tag.

The Priest: Less innocent, but hotter. Don't sell for as much though, and are harder to nab. Stick with the acos.

The Crusader: Swordsmen who swear their souls to the cul-… church of Prontera are given even heavier armor than knights. Their enormous shoulder pads weigh down so heavily on their bodies it staunches the blood flow to their brains and makes them even stupider than their knightly counterparts. This results in a streak of suicidal bravery and sense of self-sacrifice that can easily by manipulated. Spend them extravagantly.

The Sage: While wizards hone their magic spells to a new level of destruction, sages create a whole new array of abilities, most of which are worthless in the heat of battle. They spend more time in their books than any other class, so are generally social awkward and withdrawn. Simply put, they are the worthless degenerates of modern society, wastes of oxygen and space.

The Rouge: Whether they were conceived by moles or their mother had a thing for hodes is uncertain, but their ability to burrow underground without leaving five-foot holes is fact. It is rumored that their quick hands can plow through dirt as quickly as it slips into purses, but careful examination of a number of severed limbs show no signs of dirt, making this unlikely. Further studies are recommended.

The Dancer and the Bard: Archers who love people more than trees turn to entertainment rather than hunting. Despite the years spent learning the steps and songs, they can't really sing or dance; but that's okay, they can't shoot either. Instead, they resort to chains, whips, guitars, and other such sissy weapons more suited for the bedroom than the battlefield. Contrary to popular belief, the vast majority of them are not whores or gigolos. A couple of beers, and you can get some for free.

The Alchemist: Little is known about this particular class. For some reason, their residences always vanish in great pillars of green flame, leaving behind nothing save for a few wisps of ash and toxic vapor.

The Monk: Through intense training, discipline, and a few wheelbarrows of steroids, acolytes can put on half a foot and about a hundred pounds, at the expense of their good looks and evolved brains. After their training, a monk usually loses most finer finger control and the intellect to use tools, instead arming themselves with crude punching weapons and occasionally clubs. The epitome of human de-evolution, it is no wonder most avoid the church like the plague.


End file.
